


hair

by tenkaede



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Autistic Nanami Chiaki, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, I dont know how well the autism is implied, Ultimate Talent Development Plan (Dangan Ronpa), but autistic chiaki is definitely a thing, kind of, others are mentioned but not important - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 18:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19183531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenkaede/pseuds/tenkaede
Summary: From the way her cheeks puff out the slightest bit to the shuffling of her feet, Izuru can tell that she’s nervous. Noted. Her eyes do avoid his, but that is a normal occurrence. Izuru knows better than to not account for her differences.“I want to play with your hair,” Chiaki says, finally, staring past her console, “it would be fun… I think."





	hair

Chiaki seeks him out after hours, when he’s pressed himself up against a tree to regard the athletes running on the track. 

 

Of course, Izuru had already predicted her coming to him, and his predictions were never wrong. He’d already noticed her uncharacteristic hesitance with him during the day, the subtle changes in body language, the words on the tip of her tongue that she never said. He’d accounted for her difference from the average conclusion and came to the conclusion that she would find him. 

 

And she does. 

 

He regards her with a cold stare that does nothing to deter her from approaching him, a soft smile to her face and a small bounce to her step. He notices many things at once. Why wouldn’t he? He notices the slightest tensing of her shoulders when he catches her fleeting eyes, and the stutter in her step after that. 

 

“Hello, Izuru,” she says. The way his name rolls off her tongue is natural, at least, but Izuru catches her anticipation. 

 

Chiaki finds her seat next to him when he doesn’t answer, shoulders close to touching but not quite, shoes almost tapping against each other but not making it. Izuru doesn’t have to look at her to know that she’s pulled out a gaming console (he catches the rustling of pockets and the click of buttons).

 

“How are you?” She asks. 

 

Izuru knows that she says it out of obligation. She already knows the answer. But fine, he’ll bite. “Bored.” 

 

Chiaki hums. She draws it out for some time. “... I didn’t know that you liked to watch them.” She extends a hand to point at the athletes (and some non-athletes with them) without taking her eyes off of her screen. 

 

“‘Like’ is too strong a word,” Izuru corrects, “this is a fruitless endeavor. They’re as boring as everyone else.” 

 

“Then why are you here?” Anyone else might take Chiaki’s question as passive aggressive, but Izuru knows better. He’s already accounted for her tonal problems several times before. 

 

“There is nothing else to do.” Izuru turns his head to her. When she doesn’t react, mouth pulled into a thin line and eyes stuck to the screen, he adds, “and I predicted that you needed me. I knew that you would be talking to Instructor Chisa, and that would leave you closer to here than my own room.” 

“You’re here because of me,” Chiaki says. There’s still no visible change in mood, but Izuru predicts her assumptions. 

 

“We aren’t friends. As I stated already, there is little else to do. I had no commitments prior to this.” He leans back, resting his head against the bark of the tree. “Ask your question instead of wasting my time with boring small talk.” 

 

That warrants a reaction from Chiaki. Her head tilts to the side, and though her fingers still work at the game, her eyes search his face. It’s not a negative reaction, by any means, but Izuru can tell that she’s not pleased, either. Still, Izuru can tell that she is heeding his words. From the way her cheeks puff out the slightest bit to the shuffling of her feet, Izuru can tell that she’s nervous. Noted. Her eyes do avoid his, but that is a normal occurrence. Izuru knows better than to not account for her differences. 

 

“I want to play with your hair,” Chiaki says, finally, staring past her console, “it would be fun… I think. You never do anything with it, do you?”

 

“Why would I do something so boring?” Izuru counters. “Regardless. You have permission to ‘play’ with it.” 

 

Izuru can almost feel her surprise at his response. This is boring. Why would he have a problem with someone boring doing a boring task that doesn’t hinder him, for the moment? 

 

Chiaki pauses her game and shuffles close to him on her knees, gesturing for him to stop leaning against the tree so that she can get behind him. He obliges. Her hands are gentle, combing through his hair with delicate fingers. 

 

“Hey,” Chiaki starts, “doesn’t this ever get in the way?” 

 

Izuru almost huffs. Is the answer not obvious? “If it did, I would have cut it already.” 

 

Chiaki hums. She gathers the hair across Izuru’s forehead and pulls it behind his ears. “There’s a lot of it.”   
  


“I’m aware.” 

 

She spends some time idly running her hands through Izuru’s hair. Izuru knows that this must fit Chiaki’s needs, sensory-wise, because it’s minutes before she speaks again. 

 

“You can predict what people are going to do, can’t you?” An innocent question that Izuru knows she has the answer to already. 

 

“You’re going to ask me to predict something,” Izuru says, tone flat, unamused. “You’re already aware that my predictions are never incorrect.”

 

“Oh. Yeah, you got me,” Chiaki sighs. 

 

Izuru points a finger towards the group of athletes. 

 

Akane and Tenko are yelling about something, too far to hear, but their intent is obvious to Izuru. They’re preparing to run a race, and have rallied multiple non-athlete supporters. Sakura stands to the side, attempting to calm everyone down. 

 

“Akane is more suited to speed than the other girl. On any normal day, she would win,” Izuru starts, “however, she’s also visibly sick. A common cold, but enough to impact her performance. Even the way she walks is less effective.”

 

“You can tell from here?” Chiaki asks, tucking hair behind Izuru’s ear. 

 

“Information I already gathered today.” 

 

“So you think that Akane won’t-” 

 

“I’m not finished,” Izuru says. Chiaki goes quiet. “To further Tenko’s chances of success, she’s going to be more motivated than usual. Look.” Izuru points towards one of the non-athletes watching. 

 

Chiaki squints. “I’m not sure who you’re pointing at.” 

 

Izuru wasn’t expecting anything else. “Himiko Yumeno. The girl that Tenko is infatuated with. Her watching gives the girl more incentive to win. Furthermore, unlike Akane, Tenko is perfectly healthy. More than she usually is. She woke up earlier than usual today, and ran around the school more than what’s considered standard. In her case, at least.” 

 

“So Tenko will win,” Chiaki says.

 

Izuru nods. “Yes.” 

 

And the two watch as she does. It’s… boring. Chiaki doesn’t seem to think as such. Anyone can make the observations that Izuru just did, but understanding Chiaki’s wonder is a fruitless act, so Izuru doesn’t. He stays quiet as she combs through his hair until she inevitably talks again. 

 

“You find everything boring, I think, right?” She says.

 

Izuru bites back a  _why ask questions you already know the answers to? _ And gives her a sharp, “yes,” instead. 

 

“Even food?” 

 

“Of course.” 

 

Izuru can almost see the gears turning in Chiaki’s mind. Her long pause is more than enough of an indicator that she thinks hard before she talks again. “... You don’t prefer some foods over others?” 

 

“In the same way you prefer well-made games over poorly-made ones.” 

 

Chiaki hums. 

 

One second, two seconds, three seconds. “Hey.” 

 

Izuru doesn’t turn. “Ask your question.” 

 

“... Can I put your hair up? It would look nice.” Chiaki gathers Izuru’s hair into her hands, and adds, “... I think.” 

 

“Do what you want.”

 

It’s enough permission for Chiaki to start immediately. Izuru feels it when she starts to work at his hair with a tie. 

 

He also feels it when the tie snaps.

 

“Oh,” Chiaki says. “That was my only tie.” 

 

It sounds like she should be disappointed, but Izuru catches her small, amused huff. She runs her hands through Izuru’s hair once, twice, and then shuffles back to Izuru’s side. Izuru eyes her as she goes back to her game, seemingly satisfied, and watches as she starts to lean against his side. 

 

Izuru does nothing. Her head brushes against his shoulder. 

 

Izuru moves his hand, and Chiaki doesn’t do so much as flinch. 

 

“What are you doing?” Her voice is quiet. 

 

“... ‘Playing’ with your hair,” says Izuru. 

He catches his finger on a strand of her hair. 

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know, this was just a test to see if i could write some danganronpa, and hopefully move on to some longer danganronpa stuff. not beta read because lets be honest. who has the time for that


End file.
